


I've Got You Brother

by Miss_Union_Jack_26



Category: The Sentinel (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Post-Canon, Eloping, M/M, Minor Original Character(s), The Secret Society of 1990s America's Closeted LGBTQs, William Ellison's A+ Parenting, and resurrection, graphic descriptions of grief, mention of canon temporary main character death, please let me know if I missed any trigger warnings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-04
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:07:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24540547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miss_Union_Jack_26/pseuds/Miss_Union_Jack_26
Summary: Jim overhears a confession, and comes to a startling, visceral realization.
Relationships: Jim Ellison/Blair Sandburg
Comments: 4
Kudos: 28





	1. Megan's Musings

**Author's Note:**

> This story's title is from the song 'Brother' by Kodaline. The only otp that song might work better with is Stucky.
> 
> A bit of background for those of you who’ve never watched The Sentinel, or just don’t remember it so well anymore (it’s a very old show, after all): 
> 
> https://shadow-of-a-whisper.tumblr.com/post/620012794629226496/a-brief-overview-of-the-sentinel-tv
> 
> Please shout if this link ever stops working.

Enjoying a rare lull at work, Detective Megan Connor had been nursing the same cold mug of godawful coffee for the last hour while she watched the bullpen and wool-gathered. 

Things had been different since Mexico. Jim had been so guilty about how his Sentinel instincts had drawn him compulsively, unwillingly, to the bitch who murdered Sandy. He was also clearly terrified of Sandy getting hurt on the job again. About a month after Mexico, Sandy walked into the station after getting caught in a downpour, curls all but plastered to his head, and she'd seen Jim go white as a sheet at the sight of him. 

For months, Jim constantly encouraged Sandy to spend more time at Rainier, and even voluntarily partnered with other people to avoid bringing Sandy into the field. She'd seen how confused and hurt it was making her mate, to be pushed away like that. She'd understood it and hated it in equal measure.

Still, after several months, things had started improving, their relationship had started to heal. And then the diss-aster had happened, and everything had gone to shit all over again. Her heart broke for Sandy, watching him give that awful press conference. She would've thought that Jim was a heel for letting it stand, if she hadn't seen for herself what the media frenzy was doing to his life. Still, it had been achingly obvious in that moment, just how in love her best mate was. Nobody tanked their career and reputation like that for someone they weren't completely lost over, she didn’t care what Blair had tried to feed her about ethical obligations.

She hadn't been surprised when he'd accepted Jim and Simon's offer to enroll at the Academy, but she had been worried. Jim definitely cared for him, that was never in question, but she feared that the romantic aspect was one-sided. 

Sure, a history of having a revolving door of female dates clearly didn't mean much, seeing as Sandy was just as guilty of that as Jim was. Maybe even more so; her mate tended to fall hard and fast, whereas Jim's dating tended to be more casual from what she could tell. Maybe that was the real problem. Maybe Jim was capable of loving Sandy, just not with the same open and wholehearted enthusiasm. She wasn't sure which would be worse.

Sandy had reluctantly told her about the vision he and Jim had shared that day at the fountain. He'd also told her that Jim refused to talk about it, and had no interest in exploring the more mystical aspect of their unusual situation. Blair was Jim's Guide, but Jim wasn't letting him be his Shaman. Apparently he still called on whatever remained of Incacha's spirit for that, despite the fact that Incacha had formally passed that mantle onto Blair before he died, with Jim as his witness.

It was frustrating for her, although not nearly as much as it must be for Sandy, because it was obvious that there was some kind of bond between those two, something special. She was pretty sure that Jim was entirely oblivious to the way he always tuned into Blair the second he was within range. It had taken her a while to pick up on the subtle cues, and work out what was triggering them. 

The pinched look of a migraine would settle in if Jim spent more than a few hours away from Blair, and start to ease a few minutes before Blair showed up to join them. Jim was casually physical with Blair, in a way he just wasn't with anyone else, not even Simon. They always seemed to know exactly how the other was feeling, and just what to do about it. They anticipated each other's moves in the field, supported each other better than any other pair of partners she'd ever witnessed. That included a couple of gents she'd worked with back home, who'd been partnered for over two decades.

She’d tried to help him once, when Jim had been on a stake-out with her in his truck, and he’d zoned out while trying to listen inside the building. She’d done what she’d seen Blair do half a dozen times, put a hand on his arm and tried to call him back to her in a calm, cajoling tone. After ten minutes, she’d had to give up and call Sandy. She’d tried again while she waited, but nothing worked. He’d arrived twenty minutes later, and immediately got to it. It took a little while, definitely longer than it usually did, but Jim had slowly shuddered back to his surroundings. Clearly, not just anyone could be a Guide, let alone a Shaman.

Even if Jim did get his act together, and started treating Sandy right, things wouldn't magically be easy for them. She had no illusions about how some of the blokes on the force would react to having openly gay detectives in their midst, and there were fraternization rules to consider as well. Don't Ask Don't Tell wasn't just for the military it seemed, although that raised interesting questions about Jim. 

If he didn't catch a clue soon, she might have to give him a push. The only thing that had stopped her for this long, was the thought of what Sandy might look like if he had to listen to Jim letting him down gently. She was sure Jim wouldn't be a dick about it, even though she'd witnessed him being an ass to Sandy about plenty of other things. Jim wasn't needlessly cruel when he didn't have a million cameras in his face.

She saw the way Sandy lit up in response whenever Jim gave him a warm look, which wasn't nearly as rare as it used to be. She didn't want him to lose that. But she'd also seen the way Blair deflated, his eyes going dull with defeat, every time Jim blew him off, or went on a date. That was a lot rarer than it used to be, but it still happened, and she hated seeing what it did to her mate. She wasn't sure how much more of it either of them could take.


	2. A Revelation

Naomi waited until her son's mug of chamomile tea was half empty by her estimate, and most of the tense lines around his eyes had smoothed out. Then she pounced. "Blair sweetie, what's going on with you? And don't tell me it's nothing. Even Jim has noticed, and we both know how... unobservant he can be sometimes."

That was rich, coming from her, but Blair didn't point that out. She was right, Jim had been side-eyeing him with concern for days. The man wasn't as subtle as he liked to think he was. Still, Blair just shook his head. "It's not something anyone can help with. I just need to figure some stuff out by myself. You wouldn't get it."

Naomi huffed and drew herself up to her full height. Damn, he should've seen that coming. He really was slipping. "Try me. Even if I can't help, I can still listen. You need to get this off your chest, it's obviously eating you alive."

Blair ran his fingers roughly through his wild curls in frustration. If he didn’t give her something now, she’d never quit hounding him about it. "I'm in love with someone, okay? I love him, and he's straight. I'm a fucking idiot, is that what you wanted to hear?" Jesus, what was he saying? He never spoke to her like that. Jim’s surliness must be rubbing off on him. Wasn’t that a joke.  
Naomi's jaw dropped, but Blair didn't stop. Now that it had started, it was all pouring out. At least the bisexuality wouldn’t have come as a big shock to her.  
"You never wanted to be tied down to one person or one place, and I get that. You never met anyone you wanted to stay for, despite it all. Someone who made staying feel like it was a gift, not a sacrifice. Good for you, but that's not what I want for my own life. I want stability, and connection, and happily ever after. I want that more than anything. So it doesn't matter if he doesn't love me the same way I love him, that he **can't** love me that way. Just being by his side is enough. It has to be."

Naomi was already shaking her head, clearly flabbergasted. "What does Jim have to say about all of this? Does he know this guy?"

Blair stared at her blank-faced, and waited for the penny to drop. After a few moments of honest bewilderment, her eyes slowly grew to the size of saucers. 

"Oh!"

"Yeah Mom, 'Oh'. That pretty much sums it up. I haven't even dated any guys since before I met him." He didn't tell her that he'd figured Jim might be able to smell them on him or something. Turns out, he would've been right about that. "At first, I just didn't know how he'd take it. By the time I realized that he'd be fine with me being bi, it felt like it was too late to bring it up. It's not like that would've made any difference. He's never looked at me like that. I don't think the idea has ever even crossed his mind."

xxxxx

On the other side of the loft's front door, groceries in one hand and some mail in the other, Jim remembered the occasional whispers he'd overheard at the station. Uniforms gossiping about Blair, speculating about whether or not he was gay. Using words far less kind than that. Jim had glared them down when he could. He didn't care what Blair might or might not be, that was his own business, but those bigots didn't get to talk about his partner like that.

xxxxx

Naomi's voice was achingly soft when she spoke again.  
"Baby, why would you do this to yourself? It just isn't healthy."

Blair's smile didn't reach his watery eyes.  
"He's worth it. He's worth everything, every bit of pain and sacrifice, and so much more. He's strong, kind, beautiful. I'm not blind, I know he's an imperfect asshole, but that works out because I'm one too. We all make mistakes. He's suffered so much pain and loss, and he still lights up the world just by being in it. Sometimes I look at him, and I just want to tell him, show him how I see him, because I know he struggles to see that in himself.  
I want to make love to him, because he deserves to be loved. I don't know how anybody can fail to love him. I want to give him reasons to smile, to keep glowing like he does. I want to light him up every day for the rest of our lives. I can't walk away from that Naomi, I just can't. I'm strong enough to live with this pain, I'm not strong enough to live without him."

xxxxx

Naomi set her jaw in a hard line, as outside the door Jim slid boneless down the wall, parcels forgotten. God, he'd been so blind. Blair's distress, something he'd been catching flashes of here and there for the last several weeks, was so visceral right now that he could feel it buffeting him all the way from the hall. 

A hummingbird heartbeat, accompanied by the rasps of harsh and shallow breaths, filled his ears. The hint of salt from the beginnings of a cold sweat, along with the indefinable scents of misery and slight panic, flooded his nose. The cacophony of sensations washed over him with all the force of a crashing wave. 

Blair's emotions had always been a bit... louder, for lack of a better word, than other people's. To him, at least, and especially since the fountain. It was something he worked very hard not to think about. But they'd never been anything quite like this. Distantly, his ears ringing a little, he heard Naomi start talking again.

xxxxx

"Blair, you deserve that kind of love too. If you walk away now, you can always hold onto your golden memories of Jim, and pretend that he might have loved you back someday. If you stay and wait until he finds out, until he throws you out of the loft again, it'll break your heart. I honestly don't know if you would ever recover from that. Please baby, let me help you pack your things."

The door slammed open, bouncing off the wall with a reverberating thud, as Jim stalked over to where they were sitting. Without saying a word, face expressionless, Jim pulled Naomi up over his shoulder in a fireman's carry. Before she could do more than let out a startled bleat, he'd dumped her on the threshold with the abandoned groceries and slammed the door in her face. 

Nobody was packing a goddamn thing. He slid the recently installed deadbolt home, just in case. Maybe it was time to install another, bigger deadbolt. Really, they’d had far too many creeps and kidnappers breaking into the loft. Maybe they should put better locks on the windows too, and the balcony doors. It couldn’t hurt.

He went back to the sofa where Blair had just made it to his feet, his face pale and drawn. Jim wanted to die for ever putting that look on his Guide's face. Naomi didn't have a Goddamn clue what she was talking about. Of course Jim was in love with Blair too, **of course** he was. 

Oh.

Ooooooooooooooh.

Huh.

Well, that was a surprise. In hindsight, it really shouldn't be. Some Cop Of The Year he was. Actually, it probably explained a lot. It definitely explained the way his heart was pounding, his veins filled with adrenaline at the thought of Blair slipping through his fingers.

Blair let out a small, uncertain "Jim...", eyes lowered in mortification. That wouldn't do at all. Jim lifted a gentle hand to Blair's jaw, his midday shadow barely perceptible even to his sensitive touch, and encouraged Blair's face to turn to him. He was shit with words, but he tried to let everything he was feeling shine from his eyes. Whatever he saw there, Blair slowly went slack and open with wonder.

Jim's breath left him in a quiet rush, as he let go and followed his instincts the way he only ever did with Blair there to Guide him. His eyes fluttered nearly shut as he leaned close, brushing his nose to Blair's cheek as he breathed him in. 

His senses were flooded with Blair's unique scent, mingled with the faint hints of 'unscented' shampoo and soap, the mild herbal scent of chamomile tea and the honey Blair had sweetened it with. The combination was heady and soothing all at once, the headache Jim had been sporting for half the day fading almost instantly to a barely-there throb. 

That was nothing compared to the tightness he felt in his chest as his lips gave chase, Blair's rising timidly to meet them. He kept it soft and chaste to start with, a little hesitant himself, uncertain how he'd feel about this new thing he was trying. 

He needn't have worried. The taste of Blair, added to his enticing scent, and the somehow unexpected scratch of the hint of stubble, punched the remaining breath from him in a shocked groan. He pressed his mouth hard to Blair's as heat shot to his groin. Blair whimpered, his lips falling open in response without thought or hesitation, his body pressing as close as it could get from the knees up.

As if that had broken the spell somehow, Blair jerked back.  
"Jim, man, you have to be sure. I can't do this if you're not totally sure."

Jim rested his forehead against Blair's, not ready to lose that precious closeness yet.  
"I want this, Chief. I have no idea what I'm doing here, but I know that I want to be doing it with you."

Blair trembled with temptation, but he had to be strong. He couldn't afford to be careless with this.  
“You’ve never been interested in guys before.”

Jim shrugged helplessly.  
“I don’t know about that. I had opportunities. Prep school, the army, Vice. I never took anyone up on it because I didn’t want to be ‘different’, not because I was never _interested_. I was scared. I’m still scared, and I’m sick of it. It’s just not worth it Blair, not if it means hurting you. Because that, you being hurt, that hurts me too. I don’t care if it makes me a freak for wanting you. I don’t want to care about that anymore. I don’t want it getting between us.”

Blair would never forgive William Ellison for instilling that fear in his young son. It may have protected Jim from scrutiny early on, but at what cost? He heard what Jim was saying, and knew it wasn’t that simple, but it filled him with hope to hear how hard Jim was trying. Still, he couldn’t give in too easily.  
"And when you wake up tomorrow, with me in your bed, both of us naked? When it hits you, what you've done, and what it could mean for you? What then, Jim? I need you to really think about this. Think about who we work with, about your friends and family. If we do this, I'm not gonna be able to hide it anymore, and I wouldn't want to either. You know what that'll mean? Forget discrimination and unreliable back-up, we'd be breaking fraternization rules. Simon would have no choice but to separate us. We can't ask him to risk his career and IA's wrath for us. How long do you think you'll last before you zone or spike at the wrong moment, and people get killed? Even if you somehow survived that, you'd never forgive yourself."

It was true, every word of it, and it was a hell of a lot. Simon might be able to keep them together for a time, at great professional risk, but that wouldn’t last long. All it would take was a bad scare, something they had every other week, and a few uniformed officers getting an eyeful of their thoughtless relieved touches, and their cover would be blown. The higher-ups would be all over them. It was obvious that Blair had been thinking about it all for a long time, Jim had some serious catching up to do. But he knew one thing clearly.  
"We'll figure it out like we always do, together. If we can't stay on the force, then we'll both go. I know that you mostly only joined up because of what went down at Rainier; we had a good thing going before your diss got leaked. Sure, you enjoy the work sometimes, solving all the puzzles, and helping people who really need it, but you still hate the violence of it. You're never gonna be happy about pointing a gun at someone, even for me. And as capable as you are, you still wind up in the hospital way too often for my liking."

Jim wasn't wrong about that, but it wasn't the whole story either.  
"I could've worked things out at Rainier if I'd really wanted to. Edwards didn't have a leg to stand on when she ran me off like that, and my friends there all knew it. I could’ve sued the pants off of her as well as Sid, if I wasn’t trying to avoid the publicity. Totally illegal use of my intellectual property. But Academia had been losing its shine for me for a long time by then, the politics of it all. It just wasn't fulfilling anymore, not the way working with you is.  
What was the point of writing those papers, going on those expeditions, when I’d already found everything I was looking for? When they were only going to hurt you, and get between us? I chose you instead, deliberately, forsaking plenty of other perfectly good choices. What you said to me at the hospital about being a good cop, and offering me that badge, it meant the world to me. That you trust me to watch your back as your permanent partner, just blows me away."

Jim acknowledged those words with another soft kiss before responding.  
"I do trust you Chief. That's why I don't want you at my back for the rest of our lives."  
He held on tight when Blair tried to pull away before he could finish.  
"I want you at my side instead, where you belong. Between my skills and your smarts, we've got options. We'll find one that works for both of us, where we can be the team that we're supposed to be, and still help people. One that doesn't have us both dodging bullets every other day, or jumping out of helicopters. It's not like I'm gonna be young enough to pull that kind of stuff off forever."

Blair's knees went weak, Jim's firm grip on his lower back and the base of his skull the only thing keeping him standing. "You'd do that for me?"

Jim shook his head once, slowly. "I'd do that for **us**. Just like you would, like you _did_ with that press conference of yours. You're not the only one who can pull off a grand gesture, Chief. We could both try the private sector, go the independent contractor route. If we become PIs, we could still help Simon out when he really needs us. Maybe Eli can find an unofficial spot for you on his next expedition, and I can finally take a turn following you around for a bit. I could be their security detail."

Blair searched his face, but found only honest sincerity there. His love for the man in front of him, always a warm flame in the hearth of his soul, blazed through him in a rush of desire. His mouth crashed hungrily against Jim's without conscious thought, almost reflexively. Jim's body welcomed him back, pulling them tightly together again, legs tangling with each other. Somehow, that still wasn't close enough. When he pulled back, this time he pulled Jim with him. Jim followed him without question, like he always did, not caring where they were going. As long as it had a flat surface, even if that was just a bare bit of floor, then it would do.


	3. Fade To Blue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I FINALLY updated this chapter, so it's now complete! Woo hoo! Only took me 8 months... >_>'

Blair debated with himself for half a second. His futon was closer, but it was tiny. Jim’s bed was bigger, but was it worth tackling those stairs? The forced closeness of the little futon would be nice, but if Jim chose to hold him close in the bigger bed, it would mean a lot more. He grabbed the railing with the hand that wasn’t still tightly holding Jim’s, now was not the time to trip and break a bone. With his luck, he’d much more likely break **several** bones, including his _neck_.  


Jim effortlessly kept pace with him, not so fast that he rushed Blair or tripped him up, or slow enough to yank at Blair’s hand. When they reached the bed, Jim kept going, gently tumbling Blair onto the sheets and immediately following after him.  


Blair’s scent, suffused with arousal and pheromones, rose up with the heat of his flushed skin to engulf him. The pounding drumbeat of Blair’s heart, so much like a Chopec wedding rhythm, thundered through him at the same time, while blue light encroached on the edges of his vision. He felt drunk on it, wild and unrestrained, a feeling he welcomed. He quickly tugged Blair’s clothes off, not noticing when a few buttons went flying off into the void, then helped Blair pull his own clothes off so they were both naked. He’d almost hesitated at Blair’s blue cotton boxers, but Blair had just smiled and given him a small nod of encouragement.  


Blair’s bare skin against his own was a feast, almost overwhelming. It left the faintest taste of red urucum paint on his eager tongue. His Guide hushed him, slowed his frantic motions, whispered him through dialing it down a couple of notches. He didn’t want to, he wanted to let his dials go. Let them all climb to eleven, all focused on Blair, until there was nothing else in the world. Until Blair was his entire existence. But they didn’t have to do that all at once. They had time, the rest of their lives.  
“I need you,” he told his Guide.  


“I know,” Blair quietly responded. But that wasn’t right, there was something…  
He’d needed Blair from the beginning, relied on him for his survival, and they’d both known it. But he’d hated his new vulnerability, resented his dependence. He’d fought Blair at every turn, begrudged him every test and experiment.  
That’s not what he was trying to… he tried again.  
“I want you, too. So much.” There, that was better.  


Blair glowed up at him with joy, the last time he’d looked like that was when Jim had been coming down from his accidental Golden exposure.  
“I want you too. Now get over here…”  


It was the easiest order he’d ever followed. He leaned back in, eagerly sealing his mouth to Blair’s and dipping his tongue inside. His whole body undulated, rocked, pushed firmly against the body underneath him, hands tangling in soft curls braided with thin leather strips, and damp grass. The drums got louder, their beat was getting faster. For a split second, he could have sworn that his hands wove through thick wolf fur.  


Blair was moving too, his hands roamed all over Jim’s broad shoulders, his back, his thickly muscled arms, his sides. His clever fingers found a nipple, stayed there a while to play when the touch drew a breathy moan from Jim’s kiss-swollen lips. The pale skin above him glowed dimly blue as though lit by moonlight, despite it being a few hours yet before sundown. The red paint adorning that skin only accentuated its beauty, as did the mercurial flashes of velveteen panther fur.  


The two of them had started sparring when Blair had enrolled at the Police Academy, Jim helping him practice for his gym classes, and teaching him everything he’d learned as an Army Ranger besides. That sweet torture came in handy now, as he gave into one of his old fantasies. It was delightfully easy, to hook an ankle around Jim’s leg and twist his body with force, so their positions were instantly reversed. Jim swore, stunned and achingly aroused on the soft jungle floor.  


Blair grinned cheekily down at him, before applying that mischievous mouth elsewhere. He took his time worshiping Jim’s body, starting at his jaw, the skin just below his ear, and slowly working his way down to Jim’s neck. He pulled aside the beaded adornments he’d never seen before and nuzzled in, teasing Jim with the subtle rasp of his afternoon shadow, before soothing the pink skin with a kiss, a lick, a sharp suck over a thrumming pulse point.  


Jim swore again, bucking hard against Blair’s abs, his iron-hard cock leaving a trail of slick in its wake. Blair moaned at the feeling of it as it quickly cooled on his flushed skin, and rewarded Jim by turning his attentions to his heaving chest. Nibbling at the slight swell of a well-formed pec, Blair soon had Jim writhing under him in ecstasy. He even contemplated telling Jim to dial down again, but decided against it. Jim rarely got the chance to use his senses for fun, for something frivolous, to really enjoy them.  


Jim was an experienced guy, but he’d never known anything like this. Sweet, hot, and playful sex were all familiar, but this was so much more than that. This was a wildfire, a conflagration, too much and not enough. He’d never felt so desperate to come. He surged up, pulling at Blair until he was sitting in his lap instead of holding himself over him, and turned his mouth to Blair’s neck. He worried the skin with biting kisses, leaving a ring of dark marks in his wake, reveling in the quiet whimpers Blair didn’t realize he was making. A single eagle feather in Blair’s mane tickled Jim’s cheek, but he ignored it.  


For a while he dipped his head down and took a sterling silver nipple ring between his lips, tugging gently. When Blair shuddered and scratched nails through Jim’s short hair, Jim got his teeth involved and tugged a little harder. Blair yelped and squirmed in his lap, his cock stiffening even more and dripping with pleasure. Jim soothed the abused nipple with a few tender licks and gentle sucks, rolling the tight bud and twisting the ring slightly, until Blair had no choice but to pull Jim’s mouth back up to his lips.  


It was Blair’s turn to grind against Jim’s deliciously hard stomach, his muscles clenching with the hunger swiftly building in him. He needed more, more, wanted Jim inside… could he ask for that? Would it be too much? As eager as Jim had been so far, this was still his first time with a guy. He chewed his bottom lip as he thought about it. Jim’s cock was a brighter red than his own dusky pink, and only slightly longer than his own seven inches, but it was deliciously thick, just like the rest of him…  


Jim pulled back and narrowed his eyes at Blair. His partner’s movements had slowed, lost strength, his focus was a million miles away, distracted. He was thinking about something. Why was Blair thinking, when he was supposed to be fucking?  
“Am I boring you here, Chief?”  


Any hint of actual worry he might’ve had was instantly swept away by Blair’s consternated expression, accompanied by his bright pink flush of embarrassment. It was rare to see Blair blushing like that. It was also cute as hell. He kissed him softly, quickly, once, twice, again, before subsiding.  
“What’s on your mind?”  
Jim hissed quietly as Blair shifted nervously on his lap. Right there…  


“Sorry Jim, didn’t mean to drift off on you like that. I was just wondering how far you want to go with this. I mean, I heard you, you’re all in with us being life partners, and you want this physicality too, but we can take it slow if you want. Just being with you like this has me about two seconds from coming.”  


Jim groaned and buried his face in Blair’s neck, scraped his teeth against the skin he found there, breathed in his scent, burned it into his sense-memory. It was starting to change, notes of Peru and wolf and Jim’s own personal scent seeping into its background, deepening the scent’s complexity. The combination was intoxicating, making his head spin with euphoria.  
“Is that what you want? You want to come like this?”  


Blair’s brain shorted out, and he blurted out the words he’d been holding back.  
“Want your gorgeous cock in me…”  


Jim’s hand shot down to his groin just in time to stop himself from coming. Christ, that had been way too close. He was nowhere near ready for this to be over yet. Jumping the gun in bed wasn’t something he’d had to worry about since he was sixteen. He'd been married to Carolyn for over a year, and sleeping with her for nearly as long before they'd wed, but she'd never caught on to his little praise kink. The little minx in his lap squirmed with restless energy, and Jim nearly bit his tongue. He reached out for the bedside table without looking, and tried to shove a hand in the drawer while his mouth added a new mark to Blair’s already large collection.  


The angle was awkward but would soon be worth it. It shouldn’t take him long to find the pump-top bottle of Astroglide he liked to use for jacking himself. It was already half-empty, but he figured there was enough left in there. It was a big bottle. Instead of his nightstand and Astroglide, he found a simple wooden bowl laying on the vibrant blue grass, half filled with oil. Even better. Without questioning it, he dipped his fingers into the warm liquid.  


He took his time stretching Blair open, one finger at a time, teasing his prostate until Blair was just as desperate as he was, just as close to imploding. When he was taking three fingers easily, Jim repositioned them so they were both laying on their sides, with Jim holding Blair snugly against his chest. He used his leg to nudge Blair’s thigh, encouraging him to bend up his knee and open himself up.  


Slipping inside was as easy as breathing. It was nothing like being in a woman. Jim felt like he was being consumed, body and mind and soul. His fevered skin broke out in a fresh sheen of sweat, his muscles bunched and tensed with restraint. He held on until he felt Blair sigh as he relaxed, and gently canted his hips back against Jim’s pelvis. Jim followed his lead and started up with a slow pace, pushing deep each time.  


There was no reason to rush, they had all the time in the world. With each thrust, Blair melted a little more until he was completely pliant in Jim’s strong arms, too blissed out to even twitch a muscle. Jim slipped out briefly as he rearranged them again, kissing Blair in apology as he let out a pitiful whimper at the loss. Jim climbed over him, sheltering his Shaman with his broad shoulders and narrow hips, hiding the priceless treasure below him from the rest of the world.  


He braced himself on one arm, and used his other hand to guide a nearly limp leg over his hip, before he pushed gently back in. His Shaman received him with another contented sigh, hitching up his other leg to cross his ankles behind his lover’s back. The shift in angle meant that his Sentinel was hitting his prostate on every thrust, sending fireworks shooting off behind his eyelids. A single fingertip, no, the back of a knuckle, brushed feather-light over the Shaman’s cock. He writhed so hard that he nearly unbalanced his Sentinel, but that only encouraged him to thrust harder.  


Something else started to bloom in the back of the Shaman’s mind, a warmth unfurling and connecting him, coming online at the exact moment the marriage drums pounding in his ears came to the conclusion of their melody, and he and his Sentinel both reached the height of bliss. Flames licked along his veins, shooting up from his groin and pooling in the skin over his racing heart. The Shaman and the Sentinel were one, as they were always meant to be.  


xxxxx  


Jim floated up to consciousness slowly, his head throbbing and mind fuzzy. He felt warm from top to toes, but a few things felt sort of… off. He felt a solid body in his arms, warm and moving gently as it breathed, but he could only hear one heartbeat in the vicinity. He concentrated, fine-tuning his hearing with the kind of ease he’d only ever known when his Guide was anchoring him, and figured out what was happening. There were actually two heartbeats, his own and one other, which were beating so entirely in sync that they’d sounded like one heart.  


It wasn’t just their heartbeats, either. Their breathing matched perfectly as well. So did their body temperatures, and their scents. They both smelled like PeruCascade, and PantherWolf, and JimBlair. Their base scents had flooded the room, purging it of any lesser surface scents. Soaps and shampoos, shaving foam, food scents, contact scents, all of the usual culprits. The only surface scent still detectable in the air was that of sex. Jim tightened his arms around his bed-mate and flared his nostrils, parting his lips to take deep gulping breaths of the welcome fragrance.  


As his mind started to clear, Jim felt the new connection in the back of it. Slipping inside was as easy as breathing. On the other side, there was Blair. His Shaman was starting to wake as well, and take in his surroundings, calm because his Sentinel was calm. Blair felt his lover’s mental explorations, acknowledged Jim somehow, and then instinctively guided him back to his own mind.  


Jim leaned back and looked his lover over. He was surprisingly unsurprised to see the panther laying contentedly over Blair’s heart in black ink, looking hand-tapped in the Chopec style as though Incacha himself had bestowed the tattoo. A part of Jim knew without looking that a matching wolf lay curled over his own heart. The ink panther yawned and stretched before curling up again, as Jim did the same, and that was no surprise either. Some of Incacha’s tattoos had migrated on occasion, although he’d never personally seen them moving.  


He felt his ink wolf settle back down, as Blair draped himself over his lover and sighed against his chest. The tattoo’s movement caused the strangest rippling sensation; it felt almost the way a heat mirage looked. It almost tickled, but thankfully not quite.  


Jim also knew without knowing how he knew it, that the wolf was only being so mobile right now because they were in private, and intimately connected. It would settle down over the next few months as their relationship did the same, and rouse itself again only for emergencies. It might even be polite enough to stay under his clothes in public, but that remained to be seen.  


The pair dozed contentedly as dusk descended, bathing them in soft pink light until even that had faded away. As the moon’s gentle glow replaced it, Jim’s heart suddenly jumped and started racing as Blair abruptly sat up, an embarrassed flush and slight panic showing on his face just as clearly as Jim could feel them coming from the Blair-spot in the back of his mind.  


The thought which had startled his Shaman into full wakefulness slipped across their connection. Mom. Naomi was still locked out, had been for several hours now. Without her handbag. Oops. The woman was resourceful, sure, but still. Jim nearly felt bad about it, until he remembered her offering to help Blair pack his things. Blair smacked his arm, clearly in response to Jim’s slightly uncharitable thoughts about his mother. Jim grimaced, but couldn’t bring himself to apologize.  


A second later he heard tentative knocking at the front door. He opened up his senses a little, just until he could identify the knocker. “She’s back, Chief. The groceries are gone, but she brought us dinner.” Blair threw on a pair of Jim’s boxers and raced to let his mother in, while Jim started up the shower. Blair joined him after a few minutes, and Jim helped him wash his curls. A quick check had already confirmed that there was no smell of blood, he hadn’t done any damage to his Shaman. The oil had done what it was meant to.  


The scent of red paint and leather hair ties didn’t fade as they showered. It was a part of them now, a part of PeruCascade, just like the faint hints of old pine forests and the salty bay. Their usual musks remained changed as well, more PantherWolf than it was JimBlair. It spoke of adulthood and youth and health and vitality, just as it usually did, but now it also spoke of fur and fang and claw, the predator, the hunt.  


They climbed out, dried off and dressed, and joined their guest. Blair had put away the mail which Jim had dropped outside, which Naomi had slid under their door before she left. She’d given the abandoned groceries to one of their elderly neighbors, so they wouldn’t go to waste, and had been invited inside to eat cookies and chat. After keeping Ruth company for several hours, they’d made dinner together. More than enough for four people.  


Ruth had insisted that Naomi bring them the leftovers, as thanks for the groceries. She’d actually only used the perishables to make most of the meal, and sent almost all of whatever was shelf-stable back to them along with the dinner. Jim decided on the spot to bring Ruth extra groceries on a regular basis in the future. Blair smiled at him approvingly, the hints of thought seeping through to him more than enough to figure out what Jim was intending to do.  


Naomi just had some tea while they ate, since she’d already eaten with Ruth. By the time the meal was over, her eyes were glistening with happy tears. She hadn’t seen Blair looking so joyful, absolutely glowing with it, since he was just a toddler. Oh, he’d always been a cheerful person at heart, with a ready smile and an optimistic worldview, but this was on a whole new level. Love was an incredibly good look on him.  


Jim looked different too, more at peace than she’d ever seen him before. She hadn’t known that he was capable of smiling so beautifully, with warm sincerity and affection. He looked at her son like Blair was his moon and stars, his sun and his world, his own personal angel there to bless his life. A precious treasure.  


She’d never seen anyone look at her son like that before, except for a few times when she’d seen it on her own face in a mirror, or a photograph. She’d never seen anyone look at _her_ like that, except maybe for Blair’s father. But that had only lasted a few nights before she’d fled, too afraid to believe in it. Something told her that Blair wasn’t going to make that same mistake.  


She told them she’d decided to leave town early, that an old friend had called her up while she’d been at Ruth’s apartment, and invited her to visit. It wasn’t true, and she knew that Jim could tell, but she saw the gratitude in his eyes when he wished her a safe trip. Blair seemed torn, but she kissed his cheek and told him how happy she was for him, and he blushed sweetly as he escorted her to her taxi. As the yellow cab pulled away, she watched Jim pull her son against him and kiss his curls, and knew that Blair would be so much more than just okay. That was the only thing that mattered.


	4. Pillow Talk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When a hobbit has a birthday, their tradition is to give everybody presents, instead of getting presents from them. So, happy hobbit birthday!  
> I have officially survived to see my 30th birthday. There were several times when I couldn't have even imagined making it this long. Depression and Anxiety can suck my dick. ;  
> Just in case you ever need it, here's a thing I made:  
> https://archiveofourown.org/collections/Emergency_Fics_For_Bad_Brain_Days  
> If you ever need to talk, I'm available to listen.
> 
> Part Two was very heavily inspired by 'Choosing Guides' by Josephine Darcy. On Ao3 the author is listed as 852_Prospect_Archivist. I highly recommend it, just beware the angst.

xxxxxxx Part One ( Jim's POV ) xxxxxxx

“That day at the fountain… from the moment I spotted you, it felt like all the best parts of me were being ripped right out of my chest. You were so pale, and your lips were blue, and I couldn’t tell whether it was just because you were freezing cold, or if it was because we were too late. My heart was beating so hard, like it was trying to pump enough for the both of us. I was breathing into you, and I couldn’t catch my breath. My skin was crawling at the wrongness of it, every cell in my body was screaming. When the EMTs gave up…”

Jim swallowed hard, and Blair squeezed his arm, brought Jim’s hand up to rest over his steady heart. Blair’s chest lifted his hand with each deep breath he took. He didn’t say anything, didn’t want to interrupt. Jim had been holding all of this in for a very long time.

“I’ve very nearly died a few times, and that day… That felt so much worse than nearly dying. If I’d lost you, forget grieving; I would’ve been destroyed. I would’ve been hollowed out, empty, lost. I couldn’t let you go, Chief. I didn’t care what it took to bring you back, if it might be dangerous, if it was mystical, if there might be unforeseen consequences. I would’ve done anything, and considered it to be worth it, just so long as it worked. Jesus, the way I’d treated you the day before… The guilt and shame would’ve eaten me alive, almost did anyway.” 

Blair shuddered. If his wolf hadn’t turned back, if the panther had followed after him into oblivion, there was no telling what might have become of Jim in the real world. He could’ve ended up catatonic, or worse.

“Afterwards, I avoided the hell out of thinking too hard about it all, because if I’d considered it for even half a second, I would’ve known exactly how in love with you I was. I wasn’t ready for it. I ran scared, just like I always do, and made us both miserable. I was such an idiot, Chief. You’ve been so much to me, for so long. My home, my lighthouse. My anchor and compass. You’re my everything, and I was too much of a coward to admit it to myself.”

Jim flinched when he smelled the saline of Blair’s tears, heard the hitch in his breath, but Blair radiated overflowing joy when he leaned up over him. It was one thing to hear Jim say that he trusted him, wanted a committed relationship, wanted his body. Somehow, it was entirely different to hear Jim telling him that Blair had his heart, too. 

He rested his forehead against Jim’s for a long minute, just sharing breath with him, letting him brush the tears from his cheeks. After a time, Blair kissed him gently, emphatically. “You’re my everything too, you know. I’ll always come back for you.”

xxxxxxx Part Two ( Blair's POV ) xxxxxxx

“Don’t laugh when I tell you how I figured it out, okay?”  
Jim kissed the top of his head in silent agreement, and Blair continued. 

“I was attracted pretty much the first time I laid eyes on you, sitting shirtless on that table in the doctor’s office, but I ignored it for a whole lot of reasons. None of them matter anymore. You’re not as straight as I thought you were, or my research subject, or dependent on me for survival. Not like you were back in that first year.”  
Jim wasn’t so sure about that. Sure, his control was nearly perfect these days, but Blair still felt necessary to him. Maybe he could _survive_ without Blair, but that didn’t mean he’d be able to _live_ without him. It was an important distinction.

“Anyway, one day this advertisement comes up on the TV screen in the middle of a Jags game, and it’s from one of those insurance companies, pushing life and funeral policies. You know the ones, ‘we’ll take care of your loved ones after you’re gone’.”  
Yeah, Jim knew the one Blair was talking about. He had a couple of policies with them, big ones, which would pay out to Blair if anything happened to him. He hadn’t even really thought about it when he’d put Blair’s name down under ‘next of kin’. He’d been on friendly terms with his brother for months at that point, and yet Steven hadn’t even crossed his mind. Christ.

“It got me to thinking. I mean, I’d already died once, and what if it had taken? A lump sum for funeral arrangements wouldn’t have cut it. Not even close.”  
Jim shuddered and pulled his lover closer to him. Jesus, that was the understatement of the century. 

“If I was gone, you’d need a new Guide, and there was all this stuff they’d need to know so they could be good at it. Not just the basic Guide stuff, like grounding you when you extend yourself, or how to bring you out of a light zone-out. There’s a bunch of little day-to-day things I’d been taking care of without even thinking about it. Nothing big, you know, just stuff that would really add up if it wasn’t getting done. So I sat down and started writing it all out.”  
Jim didn’t bother telling him that it would’ve been a waste of effort. It was a moot point, because from now on if anything happened to Blair, it would be happening to the both of them. 

This must’ve been pretty soon after Mexico, back in the early days of Jim pushing his Guide away. Before Megan had been forced to call Blair, when he’d zoned hard during that stake-out. He could feel every effort she’d made to pull him out, pushing him deeper instead. There’d been a profound wrongness to it somehow.  
It had only confirmed something he’d already known instinctively, that there was a hell of a lot more to being a Guide than just going through the motions. Even Incacha was never quite as adept at grounding him as Blair. He suspected that true Guides were just as rare as Sentinels, he’d probably never find another one. And if he did, they wouldn’t be the _right_ one.

“Once I started writing, it just all came pouring out. All your known allergies and drug sensitivities, what to use instead, where to get it. Everything, from foods to toiletries, to cleaning supplies, even your clothes. Natural fibers only. I ended up with a stack of ten pages. I made a separate reference page just listing the stores and their addresses, and filled almost the whole sheet. A4 Jim, not A5.”

Jim whistled, impressed. He could guess at a few of the shops which would’ve been included on that list, he’d visited most of them with Blair at some point or another over the last four years, but he’d never really thought about just how many there were.

“Thinking about your allergies got me to thinking about your spikes, so then I started writing about what to do if you had one of those. How to help you when you’re in the middle of one, how to figure out what caused it so it can be avoided or worked through in the future. That part can be pretty tricky, but I’ve worked out a scientific method. I put together a questionnaire and some charts, and the next thing I know I’ve got another forty pages in front of me.”  
Jim leaned back, just so Blair could see him gaping incredulously at him. His lover nodded seriously back at him. 

“Forty A4 pages Jim. And then I started writing about zone-outs. How to tell which sense is the culprit, because bringing you out when you’re zoned on sight is totally different than if you’re zoned on smell or sound. The really deep ones, the complicated ones with more than one sense involved. Every trick I ever used, every phrase you responded strongly to, every technique that helps avoid them in the first place. By this point half the day was gone, and I had another eighty pages on the table.”  
Jim swore.

“I was about to start writing about all of the visualization stuff we’d ever done, and trying to imagine how many pages that was gonna end up being, probably another eighty, but instead my brain started thinking about all of the source texts I should’ve been referencing in my notes. I didn’t really have to, because probably nobody else was actually gonna go to the trouble of reading them all, but researcher’s guilt, you know? After all these years, it feels wrong not to cite primary texts. 

It didn’t take me long to realize just how long that bibliography would be, or how many different languages those titles would be in. At least a dozen, Jim. Do you know how many bilingual people I’ve made friends with at Ranier, getting translations of obscure antique articles on Sentinels for you? Yeah, me neither. I lost count.”  
Jim just shook his head, he hadn’t had the faintest clue.

“I was looking at all these stacks of paper, and then it hit me. If I had to narrow it down to what was included in my dissertation, I would’ve been down to maybe half a page, max. The rest of it, that was all for you.  
I’ve gone on carefully planned research expeditions to jungles before, but I jumped out of a plane over Peru for you. I asked Simon for an Observer’s Pass for my diss, but I came back after the Kincaid mess, bullet graze stitched and bandaged, for you. I came back after the fountain, for you. I don’t think there’s a single person in the whole world, except maybe my mother, who I would’ve done all of those things for. I had no idea when it started, but there it was. I was in love with you. That’s how I figured it out.”

Jim swallowed hard. He didn’t know why Blair had asked him not to laugh, before telling him all of that, because he sure didn’t feel like laughing after listening to it. He felt incredibly blessed, and grateful, and awed. The beauty of their new bond was, he didn’t need words to stumble over expressing any of that. He followed his instincts, and gently nudged his feelings toward the warm Blair-spot in the back of his head.

Blair gasped quietly, startled, before a radiant grin took over his whole face.


	5. Canada

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A call from an old friend inspires a trip, and a commitment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbetaed. We die like men.

You could've blown Jim over with a feather, when he heard the news. There were several guys he'd stayed in touch with from his Ranger days, men who hadn't been assigned to his fated final mission in Peru.  
Some of them were married now, with kids and mortgages. Some of them were still in the army, as officers. Some were nomads.  
One of the nomads, Benny, had called to catch up on the anniversary of one of the more harrowing missions they'd gone on together. Benny had been kicking around all over Canada for the last couple of years, enjoying the cold wilderness.  
After two decades of being what everyone had teasingly called a Confirmed Bachelor, he'd actually met someone up there. Last week they'd gotten married. That was surprising enough to Jim, but not as shocking as Benny's next revelation. His new spouse's name was Raymond.  
Jim vaguely remembered hearing something about Canada legalizing gay marriage, back when he'd been working Vice, but it had never really sunk in. It hadn't been relevant to him, at the time.  
Jim saw Blair watching TV in the lounge out of the corner of his eye, and suddenly it was almost like he was having an out of body experience. The phone slipped out of his nerveless grip, and clunked down onto the little end-table it lived on these days. He thought he might've heard the casing crack, from very far away.  
He wasn't zoning, not really, but he came back to reality the same way he'd been doing it for the last four years: to the sound of Blair's voice, calling him home.  
His lover had one hand on his jaw, cradling his face, and the other over his heart. Jim's hand was over Blair's heart in turn, placed there by Blair no doubt. Their breaths matched, as did the rhythm of their heartbeats.  
They'd matched ever since the first time they'd made love. It was how they always knew when one of them was in trouble. Jim stared into his soulmate's blue, blue eyes, radiating worry and love, and suddenly his brain was working again. Just like that.  
He picked the phone back up, and realised that Benny was still on the line. He cleared his throat awkwardly, speechless again for a moment. His old friend's voice, quiet and solemn, simply told him "I'm not going to apologise for loving Ray."  
Jim cleared his throat again before responding. "Good. You hold on tight to him, Ben. I might come visit you real soon. I'd like you both to meet my guy, Blair. And I think maybe there's a question I wanna ask him."  
He could've called Blair his partner, or his roommate, or his friend, or his colleague. Those were all technically accurate. But he didn't want any confusion, no secrets. Not between him and Benny-Who-Married-Ray.  
The line was silent for a few seconds, before Benny burst out with "Holy shit! You too?? No way, I never would've guessed!! Oh my God, what are the effing chances?" Jim could hear Benny howling with laughter, even though it sounded like he was holding the phone away from his cackling guffaws.  
A smile crept up on Jim's face, appreciating the humour of the situation for the first time. "I would've said the same about you, until a minute ago. I guess the universe had other ideas, huh?"  
Benny calmed a bit. "You can sure say that again. Love works in mysterious ways, brother. I can't wait to meet Blair, and introduce you both to Ray. He's the best thing that ever happened to me."  
Jim was still watching Blair's face when he answered. "Yeah, I know exactly what you mean. I'd better let you get back to your honeymoon. I think I'm gonna have that talk with Blair now."  
Benny's voice was filled with affection when he signed off "Good luck, Jim. I'll hold thumbs that he says yes."  
After hanging up, Jim inspected the phone before putting it back in the cradle. No cracks in the casing after all. When he looked back up at Blair, he could see a thousand questions brimming in those big baby blues.  
He took a moment to immerse all of his senses in his beloved Shaman. There were countless different shades of every colour in his curls, including a few dark greys.  
His comforting scent, almost indistinguishable from Jim's own since they bonded, radiated from his skin with the warmth he leaked everywhere. Jim basked in it like a lizard on a rock in midsummer.  
He could taste the chemosignals on his tongue, an overwhelming melting pot of them, mostly indicating the same alertness Jim could see in the tense posture of Blair's shoulders. He listened again to Blair's heartbeat, beating hard but slow, steady. Blair trusted him. He knew that, felt it the same way he felt the wolf tattoo which roamed his body.  
It was ridiculous to worry that Blair might say no. They were already so much more than married, in ways that no government could ever understand. They had been for at least two years, since the fountain. Maybe even before then.  
If Blair didn't want to get a piece of paper with a Canadian stamp on it, that wouldn't change anything between them. It would make sense, with the way Naomi viewed marriage.  
Hell, after everything that had gone down with Carolyn, Jim had decided that he'd never marry anyone ever again.  
But you see, Jim trusted Blair. He trusted his Guide in ways that he'd never even imagined to be possible. He wanted to take this step with his lover. He wanted to take every step that existed for the taking.  
Before he could lose his courage, he opened his mouth. He was as surprised as Blair was when the words fell out. He'd had no idea what he was going to say.  
"Chief, would you elope to Canada with me?"  
His answer, after a few blinks of surprise, was a blinding grin and a gentle tackle to the floor. It was almost an hour before they made it to the bed.

Jim glanced at his sleeping lover's perfect face as it was bathed by the first golden rays of dawn. He smiled almost helplessly as his gaze returned to the road ahead of them. They'd left the loft two hours ago, and spent most of that time cruising down the highway. They still had many hours yet to go. They weren't stopping until they hit Canada.  
Blair roused around the same time he usually did, just as they were pulling in to the first gas station they'd planned to top up at. Jim gently herded him to the men's room, and then to the station's diner for breakfast. After a hearty meal and a tall mug of coffee, they got back on the road.  
Blair drove while Jim navigated. There wasn't much navigating to do, really. It was a pretty straight stretch of highway. Jim took advantage of the opportunity to watch Blair's face, subtly lined with concentration as he focused on driving.  
They travelled mostly in comfortable silence, or occasionally with the radio playing quietly. For once, there was little need for words between them. They stopped again for gas and lunch, and switched seats once more.  
Only an hour or so later, they reached the border. When the agent asked if they were there for business or pleasure, Jim simply answered. "Honeymoon."  
The agent smiled warmly at him, and offered them her congratulations.  
Aside from requesting leave from Simon for their trip, they hadn't said anything to their friends or families. It was a spur-of-the-moment decision. Maybe after they got back they'd have a BBQ and a small Commitment Ceremony.  
There wasn't much room at the loft for it, but he thought Joel might be willing to lend them his backyard. They'd have to wait until Naomi was back in town.  
This, today and tomorrow and the next week, were just for them. They went straight to the small cabin they were renting, to christen it and take an afternoon nap. They'd head into town tonight for dinner and a show. On Monday they'd track down a Justice of the Peace.  
Ben and Ray had agreed to meet them halfway, and be their witnesses at the courthouse. That felt right to them, somehow. They'd been the ones to give Jim the idea in the first place, after all.  
They'd left their Dress Blues at home. They'd decided to get married in outfits nearly identical to what they'd been wearing the first time Blair had saved Jim's life from a charging garbage truck. Blair still had the same colourful hippie vest he'd worn that day.  
It had been Blair who proposed, in the middle of packing for this trip, that they go to Peru for their first anniversary and get married by the Chopec tribe's new Shaman. Jim had immediately loved the idea. He could see Blair in his mind's eye, painted with red and draped in a jaguar's fur, hair braided with beads, as befitted a true Shaman. And he, the Sentinel, would be painted just the same.  
But that was next time. First, they would walk down a spartan aisle to a nondescript archway and a judge in a cheap suit, and say vows which were older than they were, but still sincere. Then they would go out to lunch with their witnesses, their friends, and get to know each other. One old army friend and one new husband, in blue jeans which were borrowed (from each other).  
For dinner they'd go back to the cabin and get started on their honeymoon. It was a perfect day. As they stepped out of the courthouse, unseasonal snow began to fall like the universe itself was throwing confetti just for them. It was a brief and relatively mild blizzard, cleared up within the hour.  
Blair spent most of it tucked up under his husband's arm, borrowing his generous warmth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please forgive the format change, I'll go back someday soon and fix it. Promise.
> 
> I've got a few ideas for scenes I might add someday, but the fic is still complete without them. Let me know if you've got any ideas or requests. ;-)


	6. Paved With Good Intentions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part One
> 
> The road to hell...  
> It's time to tell Simon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm posting this in celebration of reaching 500+ hits and 25+ kudos. Thanks for the love, everyone!! ♡
> 
> I wasn't going to post this just yet, because it didn't feel finished, but then I realised it was already waaaay longer than most of my other chapters, so I'm splitting it into two parts. ^_^'

The first time it happened after they got together, Jim's mouth was already open to offer an automatic denial before he remembered, and his jaw snapped shut. He was still floundering when Blair stepped up next to him with a wry smile on his face, and politely told the pretty receptionist that they were work partners. 

They'd come to the hotel to question staff members about a recent assault case, not to book a room. With two beds, or just one. It wasn't the first time they'd been asked that question, and probably wouldn't be the last, either. 

His Shaman was a genius. It was neither a confirmation nor a denial, and it wasn't even a lie. It was simply a statement of fact. Of course, the woman took Blair's obfuscation exactly as he'd intended her to, flushing and sputtering an apology. 

Blair reassured her, and complemented her on how nice and professional she'd been about it. Commented that he'd nearly been decked once or twice, when others got the same idea about them. Jim was aware of some of those instances, had put a stop to a few of them. 

It had never gotten that far when people tried to accuse him, maybe because of how widely known his ex-Ranger status was. It probably didn't hurt that he was a tall hardbody. Blair was much more likely to be underestimated as an easy target. That was his attackers' first mistake.

Something shifted in the receptionist then, on hearing that Blair had been threatened for assumed gayness. She stood a little taller, squared her shoulders, and her blush faded away.  
"Well of course I was nice about it; there's nothing wrong with being gay. My nephew's folks kicked him out after his dad caught him with a boy, so he's lived with me since he was fifteen. He's in college now, with a 4.0 GPA. He's a good kid."

It was obvious by the way she spoke that, although the boy had a safe place to call home now, he'd still been having a rough time of it. Maybe the other kids were hassling him, or some of his professors. And Jim knew personally, that the rejection from a parent was a pain which never truly faded. His mother had taught him that. 

Blair looked moved to tears, and was about to reply, but he hesitated and looked to Jim. He was keeping quiet about them because he thought that was what Jim wanted him to do. 

Jim cleared his throat, and dug a folded piece of paper out of his jacket. He handed it to the woman, who looked a little wary now, and watched her unfold it. Her face creased slightly in confusion as her eyes scanned the colour photocopy. The original was tucked away in the safe at home, where it wouldn't get creased or tattered like this copy was already starting to. 

Her eyes suddenly widened as she got to the good part, and Jim saw her double-check the names and date. She carefully refolded the Certificate and handed it back to Jim, with a thousand questions in her eyes.

Blair was watching the interaction, equally curious. He didn't know about the paper Jim had carried everywhere with him since they got back from Canada. Jim gently returned the Certificate to his inside pocket as he explained. His voice was quiet, so it wouldn't carry.   
"The thing is Ma'am, we're both cops. And we haven't told our Captain about us yet. We're planning on leaving the force soon, so we can be more... open, about being together."

She beamed at him, and Blair's eyes widened as he realised that Jim had just shown her their Canadian Marriage Certificate. Jim casually draped an arm around his husband and nudged a thought across their mental bond. He didn't want Blair to be his dirty little secret. It was time to talk to Simon. 

Blair smiled up at him even as happy tears welled up in his eyes.   
Yeah, it was time.

xxxxx

They invited Simon to come fishing with them, ostensibly to celebrate his not-retirement. Simon had been with the force for twenty years, a big milestone for any cop, but he'd decided not to take early retirement. 

They all knew he was being offered a promotion, but nobody was talking about it. Being an active Sentinel for the last four years would've been impossible for Jim, if his Captain hadn't known about it, and made certain accommodations.   
Simon didn't trust whoever would replace him to do the same. Jim and Blair were hoping that by telling Simon of their intentions to leave the PD, they'd be freeing him to accept the opportunity.

They went one state over, to a spot with picturesque little cabins overlooking pristine lakes. Daryl couldn't come, because he was busy getting his Bachelor's degree... in Criminology. He'd reached a compromise with his dad. It had helped that Blair had pointed out to him just how beneficial his own University education had been to the cases he'd worked with Jim. 

They booked two small cabins, one for Simon and the neighbouring one for them. They were only a two minute walk apart. Jim could easily hear and see Simon from that distance, if he wanted to. They didn't tell Simon that their cabin was a one-bedroom King bed.   
Jim had blushed an adorable shade of pink when he'd made the reservations. The receptionist had raised an eyebrow for a second, but then she'd just shrugged and gotten on with it.

They were staying for five days. The first three went by peacefully, their days filled with fishing from row-boats and hiking easy family-friendly trails and fire-side meals. The talked about anything and everything, except what they'd come on the trip for. They were saving that for their last night, just in case it didn't go well.

xxxxx

Of course, on day four their careful plans went straight to hell. They'd gone into what passed for a small town, to restock their supplies and enjoy a lunch they didn't have to make themselves. Blair had split off to go look at the local clothes shops, since denim and flannel were so much cheaper out in places like this than they were back in Cascade. 

Jim tracked his Shaman's heartbeat absentmindedly, until it went out of range. He didn't worry when it got too far away though, because these days Blair could use their mental link to call for back-up if he needed it. They'd worked out that there was virtually no distance limit on that. Of course, it only worked if they were both fully conscious. 

xxxxx

It was an accident. It was such a dumb accident. In his years as a police observer, Blair had been kidnapped, shot, drugged, beaten, and drowned. This was his first time having a shoddily constructed shelf, complete with an ancient mannequin bust, fall on his head. 

That wasn't the worst part though, oh no. The worst part was when he caught himself, dazed and confused and already gushing blood from his brand new head wound, against the wall. The wall which was covered by a full-length mirror. A mirror which was now shattered, and covered in yet more blood. 

Just thinking about the number of stitches he was probably going to need sent him into the beginnings of a panic attack, which is probably why the EMT sedated him. He was high as a kite when they brought him into the ER, and somewhere along the way he'd lost his wallet. They declared him a John Doe and got to work.

xxxxx

Jim heard a distant howl which no-one else seemed to notice, and his head shot up. At the same time he felt his tattoo moving, shifting higher on his skin to rest just above his collarbone. He checked in the nearest reflective surface, and saw the tip of a black ink muzzle peeking out of his sweater's v-neck.

He closed his eyes and dove for the mental tether which connected him to his Shaman. His heart was pounding, his breathing panicked. The link was still there, and still warm with life, but it was foggy with semi-consciousness. There was just confusion, and pain. 

His eyes snapped open and he raced out of the fishing supplies store, ducking into the alley behind it. He didn't know if this would work, but he had to try. He spoke to his tattoo.   
"Please, take me to him. Show me where he is. He needs me."

Pulling his clothes aside to watch the ink wolf, he felt more than saw it change. It limped over his left shoulder and down his arm, before settling on his wrist. Then, fading to a pale rusty red, it stilled. Out of the corner of his eye, Jim spotted a fluffy grey tail disappearing around the side of the building. 

Jim followed it, chasing the wolf for nearly a mile before it shot inside a run-down clothing shop. As he stepped through the doorway, the wolf vanished. He looked back at his tattoo, one bent paw visible at his cuff, and watched it darken back to its usual colour.

Stepping further into the store, the sight which met his eyes nearly stopped his heart. A clerk was sweeping up broken glass in a little broom pan, most of the shards visibly bloodied. The scent confirmed what he'd already known instinctively. That blood was Blair's. 

On the floor, under one of the clothing racks, Jim's sharp eyes spotted his husband's wallet. He retrieved it, knowing that Blair kept his medical information in there. By the time he was done interrogating the poor clerk, Simon had caught up with him and heard half the conversation. It was plenty. 

His Captain drove them to the hospital, and spoke to the admissions desk while Jim paced restlessly and eavesdropped. He could hear Blair's heartbeat now that he was close enough. It was slow and steady, out of sync with Jim's own for the first time in almost half a year. 

Jim piggybacked smell, and there it was... blood, both old and fresh, and tainted with chemicals. His Shaman had been drugged. Of course, there was no way of telling if it had happened before he hit the mirror, after, or when he got brought to the hospital. With Blair's track record, each option was equally likely. Simon's raised voice caught his attention, and he snapped his focus back to the conversation at the front desk.

The staff were stonewalling Simon. The woman in charge, all of five feet tall, still somehow managed to look down her nose at the police Captain towering over her as she explained that he clearly wasn't Blair's relative (had she never heard of mixed people? Or adoption? Or step-siblings?), and thus had no right to any information about him. If he wanted to wave his badge around, he should go show it to a judge, because it didn't overrule HIPAA. 

Jim saw red. He stalked forward and slammed down three items on the counter. One was Blair's photo ID, which he'd liberated from his wallet, one was his own photo ID, and the other was his colour photocopy of their Marriage Certificate. In his deadliest Ranger Captain I Will Gut You Voice, he told the room   
"I want to see my husband. NOW." 

You could've heard a pin drop. Simon's jaw was hanging, and the previously haughty matron was pale and wide-eyed. A younger nurse, who'd been watching the matron's showdown with Simon, gathered up the IDs and the Certificate and quickly checked them.

Grabbing a clipboard with several forms on it, she ducked around the counter and approached Jim.   
"Your paperwork checks out, sir. I'm just going to borrow these for a minute, to make copies for our records. In the meantime, please fill out these admission forms for your husband.   
He's got a mild concussion, and several lacerations from broken glass. He was sedated on-scene, but that should be wearing off soon.   
He received a few stitches, and a couple dozen butterfly bandages, but he got very lucky. None of the cuts were especially deep, or close to major blood vessels. He'll be completely fine in a week or so.   
He's been started on a course of antibiotics, as a precaution. Does he have any allergies or medical conditions we should be made aware of?" 

Her professionalism and efficiency soothed Jim's nerves, especially since he could tell that she was telling the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. Blair really would be okay, and as soon as the paperwork was taken care of, he'd be able to see him.   
"He doesn't have any allergies that we know of, and no recent medical problems. You just need to keep him warm. Last year he nearly caught pneumonia, as a complication from drowning. His lungs are still a bit vulnerable."

The nurse nodded and jotted down a note on her pocketbook.  
"The antibiotics should head that off, but I'll see to it that he gets extra blankets."

Just then, Simon lifted the chart of forms out of his hands.  
"Let me deal with these; go check on Sandburg. You won't be able to concentrate until you've seen him anyway. If there's anything I don't know, you can fill that in later."

Jim nodded, extremely grateful to his old friend. The nurse smiled sympathetically at them, then led Jim to the elevators. Glancing back, he glimpsed the matron's flaming face.   
Carefully stretching out his hearing, he heard her muttering about homosexuals and hell. He tuned her out again. It was nothing he hadn't heard a thousand times before, but somehow hearing it inside a hospital just felt wrong. 

The nurse escorting him shot Jim a side-eye, and he thought maybe she'd caught him eavesdropping, but apparently not. No, there was something else on her mind. She stared straight ahead at the elevator's doors as she spoke.  
"You know, my girlfriend and I have been thinking about a holiday in Canada. I've been a little nervous about the idea. If anyone at work ever found out... but this, what happened today... I'm going to tell Sarah yes. If anything ever happened to her... I'm going to say yes." 

Jim was baffled, and a bit overwhelmed. Ever since he'd committed himself to Blair, it was like he'd accidentally joined a secret club. There were gay people hiding in closets everywhere, and they instantly accepted him and Blair, trusted and confided in them, wherever they went. It was humbling, and scary, and kind of beautiful.   
"It's worth it. Everything else is just details. If she's it for you, if she's the one, then that's all that matters. You hold on to her."

She nodded at the doors, just as they came to a stop and heard a 'ping!'  
Ava, according to her nametag, led Jim down the corridor and past the floor's nurses' station, then took a left before stopping a few doors down.  
"He's just inside, hopefully sleeping. I'll speak with the Sister on duty, and check in with you both afterwards."

Jim thanked her, and cracked the door open. Glazed blue eyes drifted up to meet his, clearly still drugged to the gills. There was a thick white bandage carefully nestled amongst his husband's voluminous curls, and long strips covering every visible inch of him below the neck. He almost looked like a mummy. There were very few patches of gauze indicating fresh stitches below the bandages though, and no more new blood scent.

One pale hand lifted up from the bed and feebly reached for him.  
"Oh hey... are you my nurse? You're a really hot nurse."

xxxxx

.......  
What.  
WHAT.  
Just what in the seven hells had these idiots given his husband??

Jim slowly approached the bed, wary and unsettled. It would wear off. Didn't that nice lesbian nurse say it would wear off soon? And then Blair would remember him. He would remember them. He had to.   
Jim swallowed his terror. He was getting way ahead of himself, here. He knew perfectly well that some pain meds caused loopiness. Everything was going to be just fine. No, really.

When he reached the bed, Blair smiled sweetly up at him.  
"Will you go out with me? I'd show you a reeeeeeeeeal good time."

Jim took Blair's flapping hand.  
"Do you always flirt with the nurses?"

A woolly head shook jerkily side to side.  
"Nuh uh. Only when they're hot like you. We should get married."

A smile snuck up on Jim.  
"We're already married."

Startled blue eyes tried their best to meet his gaze.   
"We are?? But where's my ring though? I need a ring. It should be brass."

Jim made a mental note to check that Blair's wedding ring was with his personal effects. He pulled his own ring out of his shirt, where it hung on a thin chain.   
It was just a plain gold band. They'd bought their rings at a little jewellery store in Canada, the day before they got married at the courthouse. They never took them off, even if they couldn't wear them openly. Soon. No, right now. Simon knew; there was no point in waiting a second longer. 

He slipped the ring off of his chain and gently eased it onto one of Blair's fingers.  
"Here, you can borrow mine until you get your ring back."

Happy tears welled up in Blair's dazed eyes.  
"Oh man, I'm so lucky. I've got the best husband ever."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just to be absolutely clear, for those who don't know:  
> 
> 
> Simon Banks is a VERY tall black man. Blair Sandburg is a slightly short white man. There is ZERO family resemblance. This being said, I will reiterate, they could have been (but they're not, in canon or in this fanfiction) related by marriage, adoption, or one biological parent. Blair could easily pass for mixed, with his hair. Don't judge families by skin colours, folks! ♡  
> 
> 
> xxxxx  
> 
> 
> Yes, I left this on a cliffhanger. No, I have no idea when next I'm updating. I'm just evil like that.  
> 
> 
> How about some audience participation? Let's have a vote. Should Blair remember Jim when he sobers up? Yes or no?  
> 
> 
> My sister BoekOtaku voted "Yes, let the poor man have his fluff!" While my friend AZWorld voted "No, gimme some good ol' fashioned amnesia!" So at this point it could go either way.   
>  My other sister, Midniteoni, went with option three: "No amnesia, but he doesn't remember what he said under the influence, and Jim teases him mercilessly about it".
> 
> As a final note: Formatting with HTML whilst on mobile is the literal worst. ^_^'

**Author's Note:**

> A thing I made:
> 
> https://www.buzzfeed.com/sadienightingale/which-character-from-the-sentinel-tv-are-you-1ozpj6f4t9
> 
> Please shout if this link ever stops working.


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